


Goals

by callingallfreaks



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Exy time and Sexy Times, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callingallfreaks/pseuds/callingallfreaks
Summary: Neil wakes and thinks Andrew is having a nightmare. One brief car ride to the stadium later, he realizes he was wrong. Literally this is gratuitous Andreil smut.





	Goals

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you find any grammar inconsistencies or errors! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Thanks! :)

Neil was frozen. It was for the best, really, when Andrew was having a nightmare, to not move until he was awake. He’d woken about ten minutes ago when there was a slight change in Andrew’s breathing pattern. 

The streetlamp outside their window was cutting into the darkness of their dorm room, illuminating half of Andrew’s face. There was a faint flush across his cheekbone, and his breath had become shallow. Neil thought he might be shaking a little, too. A soft sound akin to a whimper reached his ear, and he knew he had to wake Andrew up. He couldn’t lie there and listen to him, clearly petrified with fright, having a nightmare right next to him. 

“Andrew,” he whispered quietly, still being very still. “Andrew, wake up.” 

The blonde’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Neil for a moment while his breathing evened out. Neil reached one hand out and carefully touched the back of Andrew’s fist. 

“You were having a nightmare,” he explained softly. “You want to talk about it?” He knew the answer would be no, but he had to ask anyway.

“Get up, we’re going somewhere,” Andrew replied simply, shimmying down the bed and to the ladder. He was gone, disappearing into the bathroom before Neil even got to the ladder. Neil rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and waited his turn in the bathroom. As he slipped past Neil, presumably to find his keys so they could go, Andrew paused and tilted his head toward Neil. “If it’s a yes, anyway.”

“It’s a yes,” Neil replied, smiling fondly. Of course it was yes. He was always up for a midnight drive. “Where are we going?” 

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” Andrew said, walking backwards through the door to the main room, his eyes kind of intense. Neil shrugged and used the bathroom. When he was done he washed the sleep from his face and brushed his teeth. 

Glancing at his phone, he realized it was five in the morning and grabbed his backpack to take with. He figured they wouldn’t get back much before Neil’s first class, so he made sure to grab everything he’d need. He changed into jeans and a Fox’s t-shirt and met Andrew in the kitchen. 

Andrew was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and Neil’s favorite hoodie. The sight made his stomach do a weird fluttery spasm. They took off out the building toward the Maserati. Neil leaned his seat back a bit to get comfortable as they drove. 

He wasn’t comfortable for long, though, before Andrew was turning the car into the parking lot of the Foxhole Court and finding the closest parking spot to the door. 

Neil sat up a bit and glanced at Andrew in confusion.

“Why are we at the court?” 

“Come on,” Andrew replied, turning the car off and getting out. He wasted no time waiting for Neil, and instead took off toward the door. 

Neil fished his key out and jogged to catch up with Andrew, who was stopped at the door, glaring at the lock as though angry it was in his way. He stepped aside for Neil to open it and pushed past him to head inside. 

“Are we practicing?” Neil asked. It was unlike Andrew to seek out extra Exy practice. “I didn’t bring my gear.”

“You won’t need it,” Andrew replied, pushing the door open and heading out to the middle of the court. Neil followed him a few feet back, unsure what exactly was happening. Andrew glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Get in the goal.”

Get in the goal? Without gear, without a racquet, without instruction? Just ‘Get in the goal’? He must have paused longer than Andrew liked, because the blond turned, eyebrow arched. 

“Did I stutter?” 

Neil shrugged and took off toward the closest goal. Andrew reached out and grabbed his arm, pushing him the other direction. 

“Not that one. Get in my goal,” he said, nodding at the home goal. 

Neil walked to the goal, still confused, and curled one arm around the top bar, tilting his head as Andrew approached. 

“Take off your shirt, Josten,” Andrew called out, arms crossing over his chest. 

Neil’s eyes must have been bugging out of his head. His jaw definitely hit the floor. 

“Take off my what?”

“Your shirt. If it’s a yes, take off your shirt.”

Neil looked around the court as though expecting to see people in the audience. The only person watching him, though, was Andrew. 

It was always a yes, so Neil reached down and gripped the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it a few feet away. 

“Pants and shoes, too,” Andrew said, his voice full of gravel. 

“Are you planning to fuck me on the court?” Neil asked, kicking his shoes and socks off and nudging them out of the way. “You want to fuck me in your goal?” 

“Not if you don’t stop running your mouth,” Andrew growled, stalking toward Neil and pulling him into a rough kiss. 

“You like my mouth,” Neil said smugly against Andrew’s lips. 

“Pants off,” Andrew replied, pulling away from Neil to step back and watch him strip. “And turn around.”

Neil was chewing on his lower lip as he obeyed the instructions, and he glanced back at Andrew to see the smaller man eyeing him with a hot look on his face that Neil wasn’t used to seeing. Especially considering that they’d only had sex a handful of times. 

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Andrew said, stepping forward to grab Neil’s hands, leading them up to the top bar of the goal, which barely reached Neil’s nipples. “Bend over a little.” 

Neil stepped back, his ass flush with Andrew’s crotch, and bent forward so he was leaning on the bar. The cold of the metal bit against his chest, but he didn’t care. Andrew had sex dreams about him. 

“Sorry I woke you up then. Must have been intense.”

“The real thing is better. Still a yes?”

“Definitely a yes,” Neil replied as Andrew’s hands cupped his hips and pulled him back harder against the growing bulge tenting Andrew’s sweats. 

“Keep your hands on the goal at all times,” Andrew instructed, slipping his palms under the sides of Neil’s boxers and pushing them down below his ass. 

Neil nodded and laid his head on the bar, his cheek pressed against the cold metal. He didn’t hear any sounds from Andrew, but suddenly his ass was being spread and a hot, probing tongue was pressing against his hole. His whoreish moans should have been embarrassing, but he just couldn’t bring it in himself to care. Andrew had never done this to him before, and on the Exy court was, in that moment, the perfect place to try it out. Andrew’s tongue was pushing inside him, and he couldn’t seem to catch a breath deep enough to get rid of the fuzziness in his brain. He tried to stay still, but with the way Andrew’s tongue was moving, he couldn’t help but push back a little, trying to get more. When a finger pushed inside him along with the tongue, Neil was surprised his knees didn’t give out. 

“Andrew,” he panted, gripping the bar tight. “I need you to fuck me.” 

He may as well have been talking to the wall for all the good it did him. Andrew didn’t seem ready to go anywhere, and he stayed there, on his knees, as he pushed a second finger in and curled them both, digging insistently into Neil’s prostate, his tongue doing obscene things inside him. 

The torture went on for so long Neil was practically crying, and only when his sounds had turned into pathetic whimpers did Andrew finally pull back and rise to his feet. Neil heard the crinkling and tearing of a condom wrapper and sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god was looking out for him. 

Neil had a second to wonder if saliva was a good enough lube before Andrew was pushing inside him, and it was a good stretch. He pushed his hips back against Andrew again, not bothering to quiet himself. There was nobody to hide from. It was just Neil, Andrew, and a thousand empty stadium seats. 

As he usually did, Andrew started with a slow, even pace. His hands gripped Neil’s hips tightly, fingernails making half-moon shaped indentions in Neil’s skin. He waited until his pace ceased being enough for Neil. He waited until the deep, throaty moans became whiney pleas for more and harder and yes. Only then did he let loose, letting go of his careful, almost unsure thrusting, and instead focused on the feeling, and giving Neil that feeling too. 

Neil desperately wanted to touch himself, but Andrew had said to keep his hands on the goal, so that was what he was going to do. He bit down hard on a piece of the rope net that was looped over the top of the goal and closed his eyes, trying to grind back against Andrew. 

Behind him, he could hear Andrew’s breathing becoming more and more ragged, and the sound brought him even more satisfaction. Listening to Andrew losing himself was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard. 

“You fuck me so good, Andrew,” Neil moaned, muffled against the metal and rope. “You know just how I need it.” Andrew’s hand wrapped around Neil’s neck and squeezed lightly before he leaned over Neil, his forehead pressing against the skin between Neil’s shoulder blades. “I’m close, Andrew, I’m so close,” Neil sobbed, his nails digging orange paint off the metal bar he was holding on to.

“If it’ll shut you up then fucking come already,” Andrew bit out, his breath hot against Neil’s skin. 

A few frantic minutes later and Neil was coming, his moans still unabashedly loud. His release was followed closely by Andrew, with one final hard thrust, accompanied by a loud groan and fingers digging into Neil’s hips. While they panted and got their breaths back, Andrew moved his hips in slow, steady circles against Neil’s ass. 

It always took a good chunk of time for Neil’s brain to come back down to his body, and when the static filling his mind started to dissipate, Andrew was still there. His fingers were gentle against Neil’s hips, his thumbs moving in slow, gentle circles that took Neil’s breath away. His lips were feathering lightly against Neil’s shoulder. Neil smiled fondly against the metal of the goal and turned his head to look back at Andrew.

“Hey we scored!” he said goofily, motioning toward the scoreboard halfway down the court. There was a bright red ‘1’ lit up in for the away team from where all the motion sensors had detected them moving a little too deep into the goal. 

Andrew rolled his eyes and pulled away gently, separating them. He turned Neil in his arms and wrapped his palm around the back of his neck. 

“Fucking junkie,” he said quietly. “Come on we need to shower before class.”

Neil grabbed Andrew’s hand and led him off the court and back into the locker room. They shared a shower stall, more interested in kissing under the spray than actually getting clean. It took longer than it should have, but by the time Neil was done and dressed, he had enough time to kiss Andrew goodbye and head off to class. Andrew, who didn’t have class until later on, was free to sleep some more. 

By the time Neil’s classes for the day were over, he was ready for practice, and he slipped on his gear and moved to the foyer to find the rest of the team. Allison was ready, sitting on the couch and scrolling through her phone. Nicky and Aaron were there, and so were Dan and Matt. The freshman, too.

“Where’s Kevin?” he asked, looking around. “Did he finally give up on us and take up baseball instead?”

Nicky snorted. “He’s in coaches office. I guess something weird happened and they’re trying to figure it out.”

Neil arched his eyebrows and turned to go and see what the problem was. Coach and Kevin were sitting at the desk, watching the monitor.

“What’s going on?” Neil asked, trying to catch a glimpse. He heard the door down the hall open and looked over to see Andrew coming in, bags under his eyes, and a carton of ice cream in his hand. 

“I don’t know,” Wymack replied, “The scoreboard might be on the fritz again so we’re watching the security cameras to see what happened and why there’s a point for the away team.”

Neil’s eyes widened in abject horror and he looked at Andrew, who just stared at him. 

“What the hell, Josten? You and Andrew came to practice this morning?” Kevin asked suddenly. “When did that start?”

“This is going to be interesting,” Andrew said, sucking a bit of marshmallow off his spoon. Neil covered his face with both hands, feeling himself becoming flushed.

“GUYS. WHAT THE FUCK. ON THE COURT???!! IS NOTHING SACRED!?” Kevin bellowed. 

Unless Neil was hallucinating, he could have sworn he heard Andrew snort a quiet laugh under his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Kevin. Never was the same after. Pray for him.


End file.
